


Do You Contemplate These Things?

by frozenCinders



Category: Bleach
Genre: Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Flashbacks to Past Life, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-20
Updated: 2019-01-20
Packaged: 2019-10-12 23:24:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17476910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frozenCinders/pseuds/frozenCinders
Summary: When Tesla was a teenager, he'd been plagued by nightmares that he could never remember. Now, as an adult, he's become able to remember them. It's the same one every time.The actual contents of the dream would certainly be considered generally upsetting, but he doesn't know why it's so utterly soul crushing for him. He's really not so sensitive to death or violence, so why does watching some alien-looking man he's never seen outside of this one dream die so many meters away from him hurt him so much? Why does he always wake up from this dream with tears on his face and a sob caught in his throat, no matter how many times he's seen it?





	Do You Contemplate These Things?

When Tesla was a teenager, he'd been plagued by nightmares that he could never remember. Now, as an adult, he's become able to remember them. It's the same one every time.

It took him a long time to figure out why he was seeing it the way he did. Why was it upside down? Why was his field of vision so narrow? He eventually figured out that he was lying on his back, unable to move, or to open his right eye, helplessly watching something awful happen behind him.

The actual contents of the dream would certainly be considered generally upsetting, but he doesn't know why it's so utterly soul crushing for him. He's really not so sensitive to death or violence, so why does watching some alien-looking man he's never seen outside of this one dream die so many meters away from him hurt him so much? Why does he always wake up from this dream with tears on his face and a sob caught in his throat, no matter how many times he's seen it?

It hits him so hard, every time, that he becomes useless for most of the day. He can't remember how many times he's had to call in sick from work, texting his boss a vague "it happened again" each time. The first three or so times he had the dream after getting this job, he'd acted strange enough to worry his coworkers, so his boss, "generous" man that he is, urged him to take personal days if he needs to. Tesla isn't stupid; he knows that when he's like that, he unsettles people who know him, and he works at a much slower pace than usual. That guy doesn't care so much about his health as he does his productivity.

Today is one such personal day. He had the dream again, sent the usual text when he woke up at 4:46 AM because he's long stopped caring about text etiquette (or perhaps he just harbors a little unfounded resentment for his boss and doesn't care if he wakes him up-- seriously, Tesla doesn't know what his own problem is), and is currently washing his face as if the tap water will blend with the dried tears and make it seem like he wasn't crying over some nonexistent stranger.

In taking today off, that means he'll have a three-day weekend. Friday night is a good time to meet someone at a bar to use as an outlet. A decent one night stand can set him straight for a good while, as if sleeping with another man somehow fends the dream off for up to a month. He really doesn't want to miss any more days in the next few weeks, so it's honestly more strategic than anything else. Tesla isn't even sure how he's going to get into the mood tonight, but he'll have to figure it out.

Twelve or so hours is typically enough time to shake off the dreadful, zombie-like mood the nightmare always puts him in. He'll catch up on some shows, finish that book he's almost done with, and probably be in fine shape to head to the bar by tonight. One of the shows he's behind on is a drama, where it's not at all unusual for major characters to die tragically. Tesla always braces for impact, his heart racing in anticipation, automatically assuming that if he can get so upset over the death of some stranger that doesn't even look human, he'll surely react the same way or worse to the death of a character he's grown attached to.

No such reaction. The main character turns the corner, spots her husband, beaten to death in a parking garage, alone in the dark except for the almost spotlight-esque lighting. He numbly finds it romantic, but doesn't actually care much. Tesla can't remember a death, real or fictional, ever making him cry beyond his childhood. Except for the dream.

Nobody dies in the other show or in the book, but Tesla's mood would have improved at the same rate regardless. It's been about five hours, finally a reasonable time in the morning, and he's just starting to feel a bit better. In checking his phone, he realizes that the text he was ignoring that he thought was from his boss was actually from a coworker he's somewhat close to, Edrad. Well, he says they're close, but Tesla doesn't actually have a tendency to make friends. Edrad invites people out all the time, and Tesla considers him occasionally humoring Edrad to be close enough to friendship.

He should have been at work by now, so the text is predictably just well wishes in his absence. Tesla sends him a thank you and assures him that he'll be in on Monday; not that he can really make that promise, since he can have the dream whenever.

Eleven more hours later, Tesla finally feels normal. He walks into the bar in as good a mood as he's gonna get and the bartender, who knows him by now, gives him a short wave. Seems like Starrk must be in a decent mood, too. Tesla sits at the bar and doesn't even have to order anything before Starrk is making his drink.

"Something happen?" Tesla asks, though he doesn't expect him to open up much. Starrk is nice enough, and he's patient almost to a fault, seemingly able to put up with literally anything, but he still isn't the type to show his emotions. Most news, good or bad, is received by him with a blank stare and a neutral expression. The only real difference is the heft of his sigh and whether or not he rolls his eyes.

"Lilynette graduated in the top 5 of her class this year. She won't shut up about it."

He sounds like he's complaining, all gruff and grumbly, but everyone knows how much Starrk cares about his little sister. There's such a big age gap between them that he's practically her father, from what Tesla was able to gather the one time he met her. He assumes the parents are out of the picture just based on a feeling, but he doesn't dare prod.

"Congratulations--" Tesla starts, the rest of his sentence falling on deaf ears, including his own, as someone yells over him from the other end of the bar. For some reason, the voice startles Tesla, and he whips around to find the owner of it.

He tries to figure out who was yelling just by looking at the crowd, but whoever it was was merely calling someone over, so it's not like he can just pick out whoever is making a scene. It's quite rare for any full fights to break out in Starrk's bar, anyway. After a few moments, Tesla gives up, unsure of why he cared so much in the first place, and turns back around to his drink. Maybe he's just a little jumpy from the nightmare.

"Yeah, she's been hiding her report cards all year and I figured, you know, the usual shit," Starrk goes on, since Tesla gives him a polite smile. "Like, she wasn't doing well and was embarrassed about it or thought I'd be disappointed or whatever. But when she graduated, she took out all her report cards for the year and spread them all out on the kitchen table and started yelling about how well she did and how I apparently "never saw it coming"."

Starrk scoffs a little and smiles to himself. The rare stories about Starrk and Lilynette he gets to hear sometimes makes Tesla lament the fact that he's an only child. When he thinks harder about it, he's actually quite thankful for that fact, but it can be nice to dream about having a little sibling who looks up to you.

"I'm glad she did well. I hope you asked if she needed help or anything just in case, though, beforehand."

"'Course I did. She always just told me to butt out and changed the subject. There was one time that I tried to be more subtle about it and just _happened_  to leave a few numbers lying around for some tutors I found and she started punching my back and yelling at me about it."

Starrk is really opening up today. Tesla doesn't dislike him or anything, but he really didn't come here just for a chat and a drink, and Starrk doesn't seem like his type. If Tesla had to choose someone to settle down with, maybe he'd choose a calm, patient, family-oriented man like Starrk, but Tesla isn't the type to settle down. In bed, he much prefers men who will order him around like they're entitled to it, men who will punish him roughly for the slightest perceived mistake. Unless Starrk has some hidden sadist side to him, he's not a viable candidate.

Just as Tesla is about to start looking around, someone bumps into him slightly. He turns his head just in time to watch the stranger be yanked away.

"Come on, idiot, you can't be that drunk already," the voice from earlier scolds before the owner's hand thwaps the other upside the head. The guy in front ducks and rubs the back of his head, and Tesla's eyes widen at the sight of the man behind him.

Something about the sight of him sends Tesla's heart racing. Inky black hair that looks impossibly soft draped over his shoulders and an eye, and a similarly unbelievable height are the first two things Tesla notices. He can't put words to what he's feeling.

The other one, who Tesla had essentially already forgotten about until just then, belatedly hisses in pain.

"You hit way too hard!" he gripes.

"Oh, get over it," that _so fucking familiar_  voice dismisses like he doesn't care at all. Every time Tesla hears it, he prickles like he's about to jump to his side; like a dog being called to its master. Tesla can't tear his eyes away from the man's hair again, until he notices that he's looking at Tesla.

He feels himself being silently assessed, and while he normally has no trouble holding his ground against anyone at all, never deterred by size or apparent strength, all he can do is swallow and hold his breath. The other one goes silent as he looks between them, slowly lowering his hand from his head but saying nothing. Tesla only sees him in his peripheral vision.

"What's your name?" he is asked.

"Tesla," he answers immediately, a little too eager. He still doesn't know why. He didn't think his heart could beat even faster at this point, but it finds a way when this stranger smiles at him.

"Nnoitra," he introduces, and Tesla silently mouths it; it feels like a privilege to feel on his tongue. "You single?"

"Woah, getting right into it?" the other man finally speaks up again. "I thought we were here to play pool."

Tesla is ready to offer to play with them as an excuse to get to know Nnoitra, but he speaks first.

"Fuck off, I'm not interested anymore. Go find someone else," he says, barely sparing a moment to even look at him before his eye is back on Tesla. The guy looks incredulous but just whistles and slowly walks away with a singsong, disbelieving "okay".

"I'm sorry, I wouldn't have tried to get in the way--"

"Hey, answer me," Nnoitra interrupts. Tesla takes a second to register his previous question, still dumbfounded that he'd even heard it.

"Yes," he answers. Nnoitra stands up straight from the no doubt instinctive slouch he was in that had him closer to Tesla's eye level and _god_  he's fucking tall. Tesla has never considered himself short, but even after knowingly hopping off the bar stool, he has to crane his neck up to look at him. He gets another vague feeling, like the name for whatever emotion he's been feeling is on the tip of his tongue.

"I'll just start a tab," Tesla barely hears Starrk mumble behind him, and he wills himself to thank him within the next few seconds, but he can't figure out how to respond. He doesn't really want to look at or talk to anyone besides Nnoitra right now.

"How close do you live?" Nnoitra asks him as soon as they're out the front door. All Tesla can think about is how well the moonlight suits him. He shakes his head almost imperceptibly, snapping himself out of it.

"Uh, not too far. I walked here, but that was about half an hour."

"Not waitin' half an hour. We're going to my place," Nnoitra says instead. Excitement crawls all over Tesla at the idea of being in Nnoitra's home and his next few steps have an energetic hop to them before he forces himself to calm down. Why is he so excited, anyway? It really hasn't been that long since the last time he got laid, and it's not like he even knows this man.

On the walk there, with Tesla keeping in perfect pace with Nnoitra even as he unpredictably winds through alleys and takes shortcuts Tesla wouldn't have thought of, he contemplates what he's been feeling. The phrase he hits upon is "old crush". Did he see Nnoitra at some point when he was younger? Tesla is sure he would have remembered him. Maybe it was too far back and he can't actually recall the memory itself, only how he felt. Something feels off about what he's surmised, so he throws it out and begins trying to start over.

"We're here," Nnoitra announces, pulling Tesla out of his thoughts. He'd gotten a little scraped on the broken fence they'd squeezed through a few blocks back, but somehow ended up otherwise uninjured despite it being his first trek there. He hopes it won't be the last.

Nnoitra walks inside first and doesn't even hold the door open for him, but Tesla slips inside after him without missing a beat, only lightly touching the door for a brief second before it closes on its own behind him. He doesn't know why it feels so normal. His pulse is too fast.

Before Tesla can even register what's happening, he finds himself pushed up painfully against the nearest wall, with Nnoitra's arm across his throat.

"Who are you, really? Why do I feel like I've seen you before?" he asks, his only visible eye narrowed suspiciously at Tesla.

"I-- I don't know?" he answers uncertainly, but somehow unpanicked.

"Oh, you don't fucking know who you are, huh? Well, you know who I am, don't you? I saw you whipping around looking for me when you heard my voice. I saw the way you were staring at me when I found you. So? Someone send you after me?"

The pressure on his throat increases, yet still Tesla doesn't panic. He's always considered himself graceful under pressure, but not to this degree. It confuses him.

"I've..."

Never seen you before in my life, he wants to say. But he stops, because it feels like a lie, and it wouldn't do to lie to Nnoitra.

Why?

"You've what? Been tracking me or some shit? Is that where I know you from? How much do you know?" Nnoitra continues interrogating him, applying more pressure as he gets more annoyed until Tesla can't feasibly answer him. At the lack of response other than one quiet, choked noise, Nnoitra lowers his head further to get closer to Tesla's face, and Tesla thinks for a moment, like he has so many times in the past, that he wouldn't mind dying like this.

When did he think that before?

"You're lucky you're pretty. Maybe I'll fuck you before I kill you. How's that sound?" he taunts, probably not even meaning it based on that mocking smile, but Tesla can't help nodding enthusiastically, despite the fact that it's painful to try. This seems to catch Nnoitra off guard, and he lets up enough for Tesla to be able to breathe.

"I know nothing--" he quickly gets out before a coughing fit overtakes him. Nnoitra takes a few steps back and Tesla could cry over the fact that his hands aren't on him anymore. As soon as he's capable of speaking again, he does, voice hoarse.

"I won't think too hard about what you've implied," he promises, not caring at all if he's involved in something illegal or whatever else, "and I will tell nobody about tonight."

He spends the next minute just catching his breath, already done defending his right to live. He can't think of anything else useful or convincing to add. Nothing that Nnoitra would accept, anyway. Or, that Tesla thinks he would accept.

Half an hour later, he's on his knees in Nnoitra's bed just as he'd hoped since the moment they met earlier. Nnoitra has one hand tangled in Tesla's hair, forcing his head down into the pillow, and the other pushing on his upper back. It feels fucking heavenly, and Tesla can't remember ever being so vocal during sex.

"Master Nnoitra--" he keens out of nowhere, surprised somehow when the odd slip is rewarded with more pressure on him.

"I don't know where the hell that came from, but keep it up," Nnoitra encourages, leaning down and moving his arms to wrap them around Tesla. It feels... magnificent, and safe, to have Nnoitra hold him up like this.

Rather than just pressing on Tesla's back with his hand, a good portion of Nnoitra's body weight holds him down now. He wishes he'd push him down harder. He wishes Nnoitra would pin Tesla's wrists above his head and do whatever the fuck he pleased with him, without a care in the world. Indulging in fantasies of Nnoitra using him already feels so natural, and so many ideas flit across his mind like he's had all the time in the world to think of them.

"C-can... can you--" Tesla starts, and as if Nnoitra can read his mind, he roughly grabs Tesla's arms and holds them behind his back with one deceptively strong hand.

"Shut up," he says, and it sends the most amazing shiver up Tesla's spine, "no more words. Just feel it, Tesla."

He thinks it's the first time Nnoitra has said his name all night, and it's music to his ears. His other hand remains idle for a mere moment longer before coming to rest on Tesla's hip. He arches into the touch, tensing all over almost painfully. Nnoitra releases Tesla's arms to grab his hair again and Tesla obediently keeps them right where Nnoitra left them. That seems to amuse him.

"What a good boy, huh?" he taunts more than praises, but Tesla whimpers blissfully at his words.

Even when he comes, he doesn't want it to stop. He wants to stay like this forever. If he could be of service to Nnoitra forever, he'll bear anything.

"Didn't even touch you. You're a little slut, aren't you?" He punctuates the insult with a harsh tug of Tesla's hair.

"I'm whatever you want me to be, master Nnoitra," he pants deliriously, barely cognizant of what he's saying.

He feels both of Nnoitra's hands grip him harder, the one in his hair especially unforgiving, and he stills inside of Tesla with a hiss. Then he sighs and lets go of him, haphazardly tossing Tesla's arms to the bed from his back as implicit permission to use them again. They instinctively come up to gently grip the sheets on either side of his head.

It's when Tesla looks over his shoulder at Nnoitra looming over him that he realizes it.

"It's you..." he whispers incredulously. Nnoitra calmly tilts his head while Tesla tries to think of how to explain his dream without sounding insane.

"Do you remember me, Tesla?"

He says it like there's some extra meaning to it. Maybe he's imagining things.

"Ever since I was a kid, I've had this... recurring nightmare. I watch someone die, unable to do anything about it, and I wake up... devastated," he explains, still breathless.

"You were still alive..?"

Tesla's breathing calms for a moment and there's a quiet pause.

"I thought I was the one who watched you die," Nnoitra says.

Does he have a similar dream? Or...

"You're not getting away from me so easily this time, Tesla," he says, and to anyone else, it might sound like a threat. "You've been away from my side for too long."

Tesla still doesn't understand, and he has a feeling even Nnoitra doesn't fully get it. Tesla nods, though. He gets choked up, feels tears threaten to overflow, and he nods.


End file.
